


plateau times

by CravenWyvern



Series: DS Extras [65]
Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: headcanons galore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:35:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24753307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CravenWyvern/pseuds/CravenWyvern
Summary: Something lighter I wrote last year and never fully finished, but cleaned up enough to be posted.
Series: DS Extras [65]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/688443
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	plateau times

**Author's Note:**

> Something lighter I wrote last year and never fully finished, but cleaned up enough to be posted.

There was a brief rush of air, hot and humid and not at all much of a reprieve, the faintest of fog slithering its way inward, before the palace’s grand doors were slammed shut once more by the guarding pigmen.

Wilson wobbled into the chamber, pith hat already taken off and rubbing a clawed hand through his sodden locks of hair. Outside a faint crack of thunder rumbled, just barely audible through the palace’s thick walls, but it was enough to make the man flinch and then scowl irritably, leaving puddles of water behind him as he walked, soaking the carpets and in general making a rather large, unnecessary mess.

“Should I ask the guards why they let a drowned rat in?”

Wilson's glare would have been enough to kill had he the ability, but the man he was currently attempting to murder via eye contact didn't look the slightest disturbed, instead adjusting himself on his seat and giving the paper he had in hand an apathetic look.

“Shouldn't you be, oh I don't know,” and here Maxwell gave Wilson what was probably a sly look, thought at the moment Wilson was occupied with fighting his hair in making it not stick over his entire face, “finding something to eat-”

“You shut your mouth right now or else!” 

The short man jabbed a claw in his direction, snarling at the grin that had crawled its way over Maxwell's face, and swabbed at his hair a second more before giving up and instead doing what he knew worked.

Which was shake his head vigorously side to side like an unpleasantly wet dog.

The squawk from the other man was satisfying to hear, an attempt to scramble back from the flung about water that ended quite quickly in vain, and when Wilson finally raised his head and prodded at his already settling hair he couldn't help snickering. Whatever the paper had been that Maxwell had been reading was now reduced to a sopping inky mess in the man's hands, and the dampened frown leveled at him was really just too funny.

Tossing the pith hat down next to the wall, ignoring the muttered complaints thrown his way, Wilson finally heaved a sigh as he practically collapsed upon the bench. It wasn't comfortable, not at all, but it had been made with larger pigmen in mind and the sheer fact that it was here, meaning _civilization_ , was all that Wilson needed.

Living in the wilds for so long made the great indoors all the more so. The very fact he could sleep on a bed, for once, was almost too astonishing to even entertain!

Though it was a bit disappointing, finding that the soft mattress and thick, non prickly bedding was still a bit hard to adjust too. He always felt as if he was suffocating whenever he made an attempt at sleeping inside his brand new house.

It looked as every bit as crooked and in disrepair as he'd imagine a house in the Constant would look, but so far nothing has crushed it to pieces and, in all honesty, being able to hang up things, set up a new, still being improved lab, and even having the space to put up trophies on the walls sure did ease the stress of a day outside.

The fact that Maxwell, of all people, roomed with him wasn't quite what he'd like to envision for his new house, but apparently the older man had a knack for _cleaning_ , of all things. He was assured that he'd not see any dust hanging around whenever he entered the place, that was for sure.

This plane still being as inhospitable as usual meant he couldn't stay inside for as long as he wished, food did have to be found and hunted and gathered after all, money to earn in any way he could figure out, and then there were the bats to take care of whenever they came crashing down from the sky. The seasons here were just as terrible as usual, and the pith hat had helped in at least easing the weight his hair made in this humidity.

It didn't help with protecting him from the rain and lightning.

The pigs palace, however, did a good job with that at least. And apparently Maxwell had sought shelter here as well.

The older man had shifted a few inches away, allowed him room, and Wilson's clothing was still damp and he was going to ruin the bench itself but at the moment he didn't quite care. Having a spot to sit down for once was always more of an important thing to think about.

“What brought you here then? I thought you went spelunking.”

Maxwell curled his lip, sneering as he crumbled up and tossed the mess of paper away from him across the room, another puddle of water for the pigs to clean up later, and disdainful wiped his now damp gloves on his water speckled trousers.

“Unfortunately many of the ruins have become flooded. I found it best to retreat here for awhile.”

Wilson sat himself up, frowning and picking at the cold wet fabric of his clothes, the humid air in all its sticky heat not helping dry him in the slightest, and another roll of thunder rumbled overhead, louder this time as it echoed in the chamber.

Which was rather empty, now that he took a glance around.

“How long have you been here? And where is everyone, doesn't the Queen usually stay in this room?”

Maxwell huffed, crossing his legs as he leaned back, arms loose over his chest, and he gave Wilson a rather bored look.

“The Princess is at her lessons for the moment.” At Wilsons look the older man rolled his eyes. “She can be rather...rambunctious, so the staff is currently attempting to handle her.”

“Full moon's tonight, isn't it?” Wilson rubbed his scruffy chin, looking thoughtful as his mind turned. “I'm surprised she's even still here and not off running in the rain.”

“Funny enough, they had required my assistance with that.”

Wilson gave his companion a disbelieving look, and the older man was able to keep quiet for a minute more, looking down at him as bored as could be, apathetic mask held for those precious few moments. And then that broke and Maxwell heaved a sigh, rubbing his forehead as he spoke.

“I had...promised, to keep an eye on her after her lessons.”

“For how long?” Wilson didn't like where this was going, especially with how the old man had lost his stiff composure and now looked as if he wanted a hole to open up underneath him, not at all meeting Wilsons eye and instead clasping his hands nervously. “Maxwell, if I have to deal with a small werepig tonight-”

“It was a mistake on my part, but unfortunately Wilba would not let me into the palace unless I promised to play with her and I was absolutely not willing to slog through that rain just to get back to that bloody house!”

The outburst was a bit on edge, Maxwell now snarling at him as Wilson blinked in mild shock, but then his own scowl returned and he was snapping back.

“And what about me, huh!? I was the one looking for food, you know, not dumb gems and rocks, and I didn't ninny my way to a pigs house to escape the rain, now did I?” He jabbed his claw at the other man, which earned him a flustered flash of confusion and the slightest hint of regret before Maxwell's own frustration came right back to settle on his old face. “Do you know how much damage a werepig can do to the house!? The whole place will collapse, and I will not save your ass if it is still raining at that point!”

“ _Who_ wanted those rocks then, pal? Didn't someone just this morning complain at the lack of gold in the chests, I swear I heard that, and off I go to find what he needs and what do I get but a bunch of complaints and whining-”

“I don't see any damn gold around here-”

Just at Wilson's higher pitched tone there was a sudden cacophony of noise, metal and dropped heavy objects and thumps, and it silenced the both of them from shouting in each others faces for the moment to look over at the set of double doors opposite of them. Those led deeper into the palace, not quite set for visitors of the nonpig type, thought Wilson had a fair grasp that those were the quarters for the royals.

The noises continued, coming closer, now entertwined with the odd pig squeal and oink, and then one of the doors slowly squeaked open.

There was a huff as a particularly large pig, dressed almost like a guard but in darker, more butler like clothes, squeezed its way out of the gap, soundly closed the door behind it, and adjusted its monucle before starting at the sight of the two men.

For a moment it narrowed its piggy eyes at Wilson, before with a shake of its head it trotted over to address the older man.

“Princess Wilba is done with lessons, to be out very soon to greet you.” There was a loud BANG, squeals of what may be pain, and the pig glancing back behind it, dark eyes wide. “Very very soon, I thinks.”

With that it hurriedly trotted its way back, both men sitting and watching in tense silence as it waddled to the door and hesitantly reached out to grab the handle. Another series of loud noises, metal and banging, muffled by the thick doors, made it flinch, hesitate a bit more, before with the slightest of quiet squeaks it started to open the door.

And then both doors were swung open with enough force to smash against the walls, a jolt in the entire building as the pig butler was flung away with an oink of surprise only to bounce off the opposite wall.

In the doorway, silhouetted with tired out, collapsed guards on either side, was the Princess. Bits of the guard's armor hung off her at random, too largely fitted and loose, and when her piggy eyes rose up to see the two men they froze. 

Her mouth opened in an excited squeal, wide and filled with blocky teeth, the hint of small tusks, and with that Wilba leapt towards them with the hyperactivity of a child having sat still for all too long doing their lessons.

“‘TIS THE MAX MAN AND WIL MAN!”

Wilson jerked back, though apparently he wasn't the intended target, and Maxwell made a rather undignified “oof” of noise as the Princess slammed right into him with as much force as an over 100 pound pig child can muster, the loose armor clanging off onto the floor. The tackle shook the bench, almost made Wilson fall right off, and as Wilba hugged up on the older man there was a few snorting oinks and he turned to watch the pig butler stand itself up and adjust its fallen monocle. 

“Queen Malfalfa,” it snorted, dark eyes darting between the Princess sitting on the older man's lap and Wilson, “is to take a minor vacation. The Princess is to be in you unpigs care tonight.”

Wilson shot a glare at the other man, biting his tongue as to not start an argument when in obvious company, but Maxwell was more preoccupied with the Princesses insistent rambling than anything else.

“-’TIS TERRIBLE TIME, WILBA HATES MATHS-” the child curled her face as she said this, baring her crooked teeth and tiny, barely there tusks, “-BUT, I KNOWTH THAT MAX MAN NOT MAKE ME LEARN NUMBERS, SO I SAY TONIGHT IS SLEEPOVER!”

Maxwell looked a little bombarded at how loud she was, or more the fact that she seemed very excited to see him, so Wilson cleared his throat and got both of the pigs attentions.

Which...wasn’t really what he wanted but he couldn’t act so nervous around royalty! He was a gentleman, and even if the Princess was in fact a pig it couldn’t be said that he was any less polite!

“I, uh, about that. Tonight is full moon, isn’t it?”

Wilba took a second to think, tilting her head as she tapped her chin, but the pig butler suddenly seemed to remember something, clapping its hands before digging through its pockets.

“Ah yes, is true unpig! ‘Tis something that must be given to you, from Queen.”

With that, and a bit of a flourish, the pigman dragged out a silver necklace from its pockets.

There was a huffing oink from Wilba, crossing her arms and pouting, and Maxwell had an uneasy look on his face as the pig butler practically shoved the jewelry into Wilson's hands.

“Will help with the curse-”

“HAIRY TIMES NOT BAD!” Wilba interrupted, and she shoved herself back as if to use Maxwell like a throne, which made the man hiss a light wheeze, hoarse enough to make Wilson frown. “WILBA JUST FINE, NOT NEEDTH IT TONIGHT!”

“Is Queens orders, Princess.” The pig said passively, clasping its hooves and nodding its head to her. She humphed at that, looking away, but didn’t try to argue. Then it looked to the two men, beady eyes narrowed once more. “You unpigs go now, leave palace. To be night soon.”

Before either of them could make an attempt to either argue or plead the Princess was up, hopping from the lap she had previously decided was her seat and grabbing a hold onto Maxwells arm.

“TIS TIME TO GO TO YON HOUSE, YES!”

Wilson stood up, necklace still in his claws as the Princess practically dragged the older man away, and it was a bit surprising to not hear a single complaint for the treatment from the man. The pig butler huffed as it watched him, still looking polite and stiff, and after a moment Wilson realized he should probably excuse himself to go after them.

He floundered for a moment, not quite knowing what he should do before settling on a quick bow of sorts, to the pigs amusement no doubt, and hastily ran to catch up, necklace stuffed into his pocket. 

The grand doors had opened up, and it seemed the fog and rain had subsided for a bit. The sun was starting to set, not quite evening just yet, and the pig Princess hopped about in the rain puddles, babbling on to Maxwell as he stood nearby, attempting to not get splashed in the process.

At least, until Wilba grabbed him by the sleeve and dragged him into one, leaping and splashing the water everywhere as the older man sighed and let it happen.

Passing the gates, Wilson could see the guards all about, taking the moment from their duties to pause and watch. A few of them chuckled, snorted and spoke to each other in hushed pig language, and that was when he realized that maybe Maxwell let her do what she wished _because_ she was the Princess.

The knowledge of that setting in made him frown, shoulders falling as the grand palace doors were sealed shut. 

Tonight was going to be just terrible, he could feel it in his gut, and Wilson's gut near never lied.


End file.
